Characters Therapy
by Watertreker568
Summary: Full Title: The underused, underpaid, underrated, underappreciated, abused, and bored characters therapy. Title says it all. My take on how Johndy was born in the non-cannon/fandom 'verse. One-Shot


The underused, underpaid, underrated, underappreciated, abused, and bored characters therapy.

Title says it all. My take on how Johndy was born in the non-cannon/fandom 'verse

I don't own anything except for myself and my newspaper.

Warnings: 100% out-of-continuity crack! Spoilers for anything and everything.

BREAK_

If you were to be in this fic, you would walk into a massive room. Above the door would be a sign that says:

"Welcome! Thank you for coming to _Therapy Meetings for Underused, Underpaid, Underrated, Underappreciated, Abused, and Bored Characters_!"

Okkkaaayyy… a little too perky you would probably think. (I can't tell for all of you; for a couple, that might be normal)

All around are different minor characters from all plots, genres and woks of life. You pass through a group of what look like rejects from a Scooby-Doo film. (Scooby-doo had underused, underpaid, abused and ignored characters? Weird.) In a distant, cob-web infected corner – alright, maybe it just LOOKS cob-web infected, because to you, it seems relatively barren compared to the other fandoms in the room.

The table has a bold printed sign on the side, and you can read it as you come closer. Fortunately, _You_ aren't in this fanfic, so this is where you get booted out of the equation.

The sign reads "Torchwood", though someone has taken a red sharpie to the white paper, the added comment standing out clearly against the black text.

"If you're here, You're in the wrong place."

Alright, it wasn't put quite that nicely… But this story is supposed to be staying K+. So that phrasing it is.

However, there were two people at the table. (Wow! A grand total of TWO PEOPLE! I think they broke a record).

PC Andrew Davidson sat at one side of the table, watching the other fandoms suspiciously. He placed his folded hands on the table, leaning on his elbows. Andy watched the other groups for a while, before looking down at the sign. He blinked, read the added message again, blushed slightly, raised an eyebrow, then shifted his eyes to the seat across from him. Because there WAS a second person at the table, and Andy had no doubts that he was the person who had written the threat.

John Hart leaned back in the chair directly across from Andy, his feet propped up on the table, one crossed over the other. He might have been asleep, except for the fact that in the past – Andy glanced at his watch – 20 minutes, he had caught the other man with one eye open five times. He got the distinct impression that John was watching HIM, though Andy didn't have a clue why.

But there was one blatantly obvious indication that he had graffitied the sign. John was holding a bright red sharpie.

Again, the eye opened. Andy could feel the silent appraisal, and frowned at John. He was clearly Not amused at being looked at like that. Finally, having ignored Andy's disapproval, John finished looking the cop over.

Andy sighed, propping his head up on one hand, while tapping the fingers of his other hand on the table.

"Anyone else show up yet?" John asked, startling Andy slightly. Fortunately, he hid it well. So, when John opened _both_ of his eyes (gasp!), all he saw was an un-amused ginger.

"It spoke." Andy commented, disinterested. John quirked an eyebrow, stretching his arms out and folding them behind his head.

"'It' can do a whole lot more than speak." He flirted, giving Andy a leery grin.

Typically, Andy would just give the man a disgusted look, ignore the comment and pretend he wasn't there. However, seeing as he was bored out of his MIND… eh, what the hey.

"Like what?" He responded, trying to pull off his best 'I'm a ginger Welshman and you KNOW you want this' grin.

John just raised an eyebrow, smirking. He hadn't actually expected the kid to flirt back. But, this is 'Captain' John Hart, and there was no way he was going to pass up a free date. (He wasn't exactly planning on a 'date', but… again, K+)

"Why don't you find out?" John smirked, watching Andy over the toes of his boots. Andy paused, as if considering his comment.

What he was actually doing was taking in the entire scene in front of him that was John. He couldn't have been an inch over five nine. But that didn't stop him from making an impressive figure. Andy probably would have made a comment on the fact he was wearing skinny jeans with knee high boots, but decided against it. Part of his decision was based off of the no-nonsense glares John gave towards anyone else who approached the table, (even though Andy could've sworn he recognized one kid from episode 3…), while the other part was because of the katana strapped the John's waist – or the double set of pistols he also carried. Or both.

Andy blinked, just noticing that John had spoken. It took him a couple extra seconds to process the comment, then to come up with a response.

"Wasn't that what I was doing?" He wondered, tilting his head innocently. John bit his lip, thinking on that.

Smirking, he took his feet off the table, replacing them with his elbows. Andy had to struggle not to lean backwards as John's face came close to his.

"Did you want a demonstration?" He asked, his voice low.

Andy frowned, tracing his fingers around a spot on the table.

"And just what would you be 'demonstrating'?" Andy smirked, watching John be drawn closer into his net. Wait… when did he suddenly get a NET? This was supposed to just be a way of preventing boredom-induced coma. It wasn't like – Never mind… because suddenly, John had leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

"So," He asked, disinterested all of a sudden. "Why're you here?"

"RTD." He replied. John raised an eyebrow, prompting an added response. "Told my mom he'd take me out of continuity after CoE 'cause I'm not a major enough character."

John winced. "Ouch. See, I'd offer you sympathy, but it ain' gonna do anything." He wouldn't have actually tried, even if he did see a point. True, the cop was cute, but did that suddenly change John freaking Hart into a soppy wreck. Nope.

"That's not the end of it either." Andy scowled. "She decided to wait until YESTERDAY to tell me that I had to show up here." He snorted, dragging a little more emotion out of John.

"That's a problem?" John asked, not quite getting why RTD had influenced Andy's mom to send him to REHAB.

"Eh, she figures that 'therapy' will somehow magically make me get a lead part or something. I have NO idea where she got that from, 'cause all I've seen of therapy,"

"Is that it doesn't work." John finished for him. "Been there, done that. Four times over."

Andy smirked a little, until John's words sunk in. "Four?"

John grinned. "Drugs, booze, murder, sex." He shrugged, ignoring Andy's startled look. "Standard prescription for a Time Agent."

"Okay, I'm not going to ask…" Andy assured him, though he was curious. The Jack x John fandom issues suddenly made more sense than they had. (Of course he knows about their prior 'issues'. He is in the show after all.)

"So, I answered you question." He shrugged. "Your turn."

John snorted. "Plotline demanded it." Andy nodded, understanding. "Authoress made me. Said something about it being 'pre-couples counseling' or whatever."

Andy blinked, in awe for a moment.

"Did you actually meet her?" He asked, unknowingly speaking in a whisper. John grinned.

"Who, Oceané?" He snorted. "Eh, I've Known her since she started writing fanfic's for Torchwood. I'll tell ya', the girl's-"

Before he could finish his sentence, he wound up being smacked upside the head. By me. With a rolled up newspaper. Although, I did get a very satisfying feeling from seeing John wince in pain. Call me a sadist, fine! Doesn't change the fact he's annoying.

"How many times have I told you NOT TO MENTION THAT!?" I demanded, making Andy flinch. Oh… yeah. He wasn't used to my 'outside voice'. (I think john's immune by now.)

John – the brat – had the annoying nerve to grin. "You clearly don't know me that well, drip. If ya' expect me to have listened."

I smacked him with the newspaper again. (Oh, and before you ask, I forget where I got it.)

"Ow! What the (censored to keep K+) was that for?!"

"Only my date's allowed to call me that." I answered simply. Bored with John being deliberately stupid, I started paying attention to Andy. Well… what seemed to remain of Andy.

His eyes were VERY wide, and –trust me, this isn't a good thing – He was paler than I am. Clearly I had chosen a not-very-practical character to abuse at this point in time.

"What?!" I demanded, not liking being stared at. (Why do you think I have problems with John?)

"It's just um…" Andy stuttered. Insert my 'I'm so not amused dude' glare. "I thought that you would be older."

"And taller." John added, leaning backwards in his chair again.

Okay… so what if I'm not THE tallest person on the planet?

Un-amused by his commentary, I kicked the legs of his chair out. John landed with a rather satisfying thunk and string of curses.

"Did I forget to mention that I have a Karmatic streak?" I smiled sweetly. John started to make a comment, but decided against it.

"witch." He muttered, starting to get up.

"Should I bring up the fact you're a creeper?"

"Am so not."

"Dude, You're totally a pedo. It's weird."

Begin regretting my mouth working three mph faster than by brain… now.

John sat up, still apparently unable to get off the floor.

"You never complained."

"I was asleep! And fourteen! And totally susceptible to attractive men in British Sci-Fi shows!"

"You still didn't."

I smacked him again.

"Shut up. Or else."

John rolled his eyes. That earned him another smack with the newspaper. And finally, I left. Now… where were we BEFORE John got stupid?

Oh, yeah… Plotting couples.

"What's pre-couples counseling?" Andy wondered, resuming staring at the table dis-interestedly.

John (having gotten off of the linoleum), smirked.

"I think that the typical fan-girl word for it was 'duct-tape'."

Andy blushed. "Umm… is she expecting anyone else to show up?"

John glanced around. "Don't know, Don't care."

Andy paled considerably. Then, the idea smacked him in the back of the head. (And this time it WASN'T my newspaper! It was actually WoNdy Alice, who's OCD about stats.)

See, the idea was that, in comparison to his (astonishing, really) total of stories on fanfiction, John had about ten times more.

Alright, that's doing him a little too much credit. The total number of fics about him are a blistering: Twenty three!

Now, about John… six PAGES. That brings a rough total of… a hundred and fifty. (Of course, if you narrow those options to K – T, it drops to three pages.)

So… you can see his wheels turning. At least, until John started to look at him funny. Because, while everything was normal (ish) in Andy's head, from the other side of the table, he looked like he was going to be sick.

"Care to share with the rest of the group?" he asked. Andy was jolted out of his thoughts, rapidly becoming embarrassed.

"Want to start a conversation about how the really boring characters have cult followings?"

John shrugged. "Why not?" He straightened up, almost appearing interested in the plotline.

"Who's Joe?" John raised an eyebrow, confused. So Andy explained. "I saw his name one time when my mom was checking Fanfiction. She's still waiting for me to get fan-girls writing me as the main character or something."

John shrugged. "Umm… well, He's not on Wikipedia®, so he can't be that important."

"And I thought that we were neglected."

"Oh, please." John snorted. "There's a grand total of seven(ish) people who pity the kid I dropped off the top of a building enough to name him."

"I thought that RTD gave him a name?"

"Yeah, but never bothered to put it in the story."

"Maybe I should tell my mother that."

"Or you could avoid her altogether." John suggested. Andy raised an eyebrow.

"And how do you suggest I do that?"

"Same way I avoid Fanfiction at all costs." He smirked. "Don't go near it."

"Well that's easy for you to say." Andy frowned. "YOU don't have to worry about dropping into obscurity."

John bit back a laugh. "As if! Trust me, you don't WANT the fan-girls stalking you."

"And why not?"

"Three words. Favorite Abused Character." He rolled his eyes. "Seriously, the only reason I have any stories at all is that either the antagonist has to 'get it', or because I'm a go-to character for M-rated fic's."

"So…" Andy hesitated, glancing warily at the katana. "Most of the stories don't end well for you?"

"Duh."

"Think your propensity to kill people has anything to do with it?"

John rolled his eyes. "Again. DUH."

Andy hesitated for a minute. "You know what really annoys me?"

"Off-road cars that stall out when it rains?"

"No…"

"Young children?"

"Not really…"

"When Oceané get's writers block in the middle of a crack fic?"

"Close enough."Andy shrugged. "When you run out of topics between plot points."

"Who says we need conversation topics?" John asked, grinning in a way that made Andy – and probably anyone else – very uncomfortable.

Fortunately, John kissed him before he had a chance to speak. *And here is where I step in and apologize. I just couldn't put John in a true K+ fic*

Andy's eyes barely had a chance to widen before it was over, and John was sitting in his chair, still with the same grin on his face.

"Uhhh…"

"Plot requirement."

"Oh, yeah. Okay."

Three seconds later, and Jeopardy music started playing. (Who says there isn't music for any occasion? Or that I can be VERY abusive?)

Unfortunately, this music started to make Andy think. And thinking around John Hart, Isn't the best of ideas. Why? Well, because this is John we're talking about. And He's from the 51st century. And human – mostly. And attractive. And comes with pheromones. (Which apparently are hell on the human mind.)

So… you can guess what was going on inside Andy's head. (No, not his tenth birthday. No, not that either… take three rights, a left, and… yeup, that's it.)

John really was attractive. And it's not as though in 40% of stories Andy hadn't had boyfriends before (because he had). But he was a cop… and John seemed pretty proud of the fact he was a law-breaker. Although it would get his mother off his back, if he had a relationship with a more popular character. Though she might not approve of the rating most of the fic's ended up with.

Not that Andy was likely to complain with those ratings. In fact, he could… Aaaaaannnnndd I'm going to cut off his brain's rambling there, if none of you desperately mind.

Having been thoroughly censored, Andy snapped out of it. He was staring to develop a habit of spacing out. It's becoming a lot of fun to play with – hehehe.

The blood draining from his face, Andy made an immediate decision. After all, they weren't in continuity. So… whether it went right or terribly wrong, didn't really matter.

John had started to look at him strangely, as if he was trying to make a similar decision in his own mind. Actually, his decision had taken considerably less time.

'Is he cute: yes. Is he a decent snog: yes. Would snogging him be a decent use of time: definitely.'

So now he was playing chess in his head. And before you ask – yes, it is possible by the fifty-first century, and he was playing against the 22 year-old version of Jack in his head. And he was losing. Quite badly.

Fortunately, John's game was interrupted before he had a chance to fail miserably.

Andy bit his lip, waiting for John to react as he nudged him with his toe. John blinked, raising an eyebrow.

"Could the, uh," Andy coughed, trying to get his thoughts straight. "Plot require it again?"

John grinned. "You asking?"

"I think that's the meaning of a question mark."

John seemed to think about this for a moment.

"I suppose it could…"

This time, it was Andy who initiated the kiss. And he held on much, much longer.

TWENTY MINUTES LATER

Somehow, through the course of the kiss, John had ended up in Andy's lap. Also, his chair had fallen over, so the two of them were practically under the table. Which was all well and good, mind you, because those who run the therapy tend to frown on that sort of thing.

They're afraid that it might damage the children's show characters psyche.

Finally, the pair broke apart. It was only the sheer force of will due to lack of cannon that allowed them to maintain the kiss for that long without breathing.

"Wow."

"Huh… yeah."

The pair stared at one another again, briefly debating whether or not they had time to repeat the experience before the fic ended.

Unfortunately, it was not to be, as at that moment another person chose to arrive.

"Hello!" The Doctor greeted. "This is the Torchwood table, right?"

Andy stared. John frowned. The doctor looked decidedly less comfortable than he had a second prior.

"What the blazing hell are you doing here?" John demanded, snarling from his seat on top of Andy. Andy sighed.

"And when are you going to leave?"

The Doctor frowned. "But this is the Torchwood table!" He whined.

"Yeah, so why are you here?" Andy asked, sitting up as soon as john moved to allow him.

"You're not underused, paid, rated, or abused. And you certainly aren't ignored or bored." John pointed out.

"But I am!" the Doctor complained. "I'm only mentioned by name in the show! And the rest of the times are vague euphemisms!"

"You have your own bloody show! You aren't ignored!" John and Andy yelled at the same time. They stared at each other.

"That was awkward." Andy commented, not sounding as convinced as he could be. John frowned.

"Maybe there's something to Oceane's duct-tape theory after all…" He muttered distractedly. Then he turned his attention back to the Doctor.

"That more than makes up for your absence in Torchwood." John scowled.

The doctor pouted. "So I don't count as ignored?"

"No!" the pair shouted together again.

Looking on the verge of tears, the Doctor wandered back the way he had come. Andy watched him until he left the room.

Grinning at each other, John and Andy took up where they had left off. The night Janitors had to get them out from under the table. The two were still kissing as they were thrown out of the building.

It was the start of a beautiful pairing.

BREAK_

If you enjoyed this, check out my other story: "The John Hart Solution." And Review!


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